Fly Away
by shampoo147
Summary: Harry is in an alternate universe. He's Voldemort's righthand man, his parents are alive and no one will believe him. No pairings. Title and rating needed.
1. Chapter 1

Shampoo147: well, I hope you like this everyone! 

Mittens: Shut up!

Shampoo147: What did you say to me? –Turns the native glare upon Mittens, who cowers in fear-

Mittens: Just that it's one of the best pieces I have ever read!

Shampoo147: I thought so.

Ayame: Well, we own nothing, but she has a dog biscuit!

Mittens: For me? –Gives innocent eyes-

Shampoo147: _no_, for John!

John: Alright, I get food! –Barks triumphantly to Mittens as I give him the treat-

* * *

Chapter 1

_"I can't"_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because you already have a belief that I'm crazy, you already believe that you know me. There's nothing for me to say. If I submit to it all, you'll take it as a guilty confession, and if I defend myself and tell you the truth, you'll dismiss it as lies or delusion."_

"_How can you be sure what you know?"_

"_How can you be sure Voldemort's evil and Dumbledore's good?"_

"_We are here too discuss _you_, Mr.Potter."_

"_See? You're already trying to brush me off, and I haven't gotten my answer." _

"_I know You-know-Who's evil because he does evil deeds and unforgivable actions."_

"_What makes them evil?"_

"_Killing and torturing people is unnatural."_

"_See? Our differences are already showing."_

"_Will you care to elaborate, Mr.Potter?"_

"_You see death as unnatural, I see it completely natural, a part of life."_

"_The innocent falling dead to a mad man is not natural, Mr.Potter."_

"_Oh, but the innocent are always the ones to suffer. One way or another, it's the innocent that are crooks, in the end. And being mad or crazy is in the mind; he merely has a difference in opinion. And besides, killing is in human nature. It's the first thing in our instinct."_

_"Will you explain your theory that the innocent are to suffer, Mr.Potter?"_

"_Certainly, those who seem innocent are usually the ones with less than pure thoughts. Take my "Brother" as you insist on calling him, he was raised in innocence, yet when you looked, you saw porn under his mattress, and self-mutilation on his body. A cry for attention, perhaps? Or, a crime in _pleasure_? You think you know the answer, yet, his eyes will always contradict, if you would bother to look."_

"_Thomas Potter is a _decent_ young man."_

"_See, you're dismissing it already. Like Aunt Petunia, always ignoring her child having the BMI of a killer whale and beating anyone up for fun. She thought he was a perfect angle, because she was blind, blind by the veil of delusion. She couldn't admit that her son was any less than myself."_

"_So, you're saying that you are better than Mr.Dudley Dursley?"_

"_No, I'm saying that she was finding any excuse that Dudley was better than me."_

_"And, when, would you have met them long enough to know this?"_

"_When they were raising me, when else?"_

"_But, the Dursleys have never raised you, your parents had raised you."_

"_I'm from an alternate universe, I've told you that, all of you."_

"_Mr.Potter, would like to get off this subject?"_

"_You're the one leading the talk."_

"_You claim that you never been a Death Eater, yet admit to using an unforgivable, care to explain?"_

"_I'm not a Death Eater. I have no burn in my forearm if you need proof. And the unforgivable? It's not what people do to make the difference, it's _why_."_

"_Would you explain further?"_

"_If someone's in a world of torture and pain, do you make it longer, make them suffer longer for selfish reasons?"_

"_Well, happiness is not selfish, Mr.Potter."_

"_Putting a loved one, an innocent, _you_ said, through hell just because you want to be happy, how is that not selfish?"_

"_Mr.Potter, I do not see what this has to do with the unforgivable curses."_

"_Of course not, you're so narrow minded. When that person is in pain, a simple_ Avadra Kedevra_ will put them out of their misery, and as Dumbledore himself said, death is merely another adventure. So why torture them when they can be on their next great adventure?"_

"_I see."_

"_Do you? I don't believe you do."_

"_Then make me see."_

"_I can't. You have to accept things on your own."_

"_What of the Crutatous Curse?"_

"_Did you know, that when a person is in extreme mental pain, a simple _Crucio_ is what is needed to help the pain go away?"_

"_No, I did not know that."_

"_Of course not."_

At that moment, James Potter stopped the muggle tape recorder. Bags developing around his eyes, he was the perfect picture of tire. Every line on his middle-aged face was standing out more clearly than they have ever before. His eyes showed fatigue and struggle. A struggle trying to comprehend his oldest son. The Death Eater who couldn't remember being a Death Eater.

James bent over and rubbed his forehead and sighed. He was so fucking tired. He'd been listening to those tapes of his son's sessions every day for the past four days. Nothing made any sense. His son was so insightful and James found he couldn't believe that this boy would ever do anything without good reason. He seemed as if he would feel no guilt if he had killed someone, but he _also_ seemed as if he wouldn't _enjoy_ it.

Papers and parchment were strewn about on the desk, quills and pens scattered. In the dim candlelight he could barely make out his own handwriting on his notes of what he had gotten from his son's sessions. Not a fucking thing. Then again, he was never any good at the whole psychology shit.

"James, are you still up, honey?" his beautiful wife, Lily, said in a sleepy voice as she came down the stairs.

"Yeah, I was just about to go up." James replied in a tired voice.

"Honey, you should sleep." Lily said.

"Yeah . . ." was James' reply as he blew out the candle and went upstairs with his wife.

Harry said nothing as he looked at the plain white walls. They had given him books, an entire bookcase on the wall, but not the ones he liked. These were all children's books like Peter pan, not even more than fifty pages. He had his own bathroom, and a small wardrobe, which held white patient robes. The robes for crazy people. He had a steel bed and a soft mattress, and a window with a screen, an _unbreakable_ screen. Like he was going to _jump_ out. He was five floors off this bloody place! He wasn't _suicidal_. But, they had allowed him chess set. Since the pieces were alive, he got to play against himself, or them, either way. There were candles in his room, but only one white one was alight now. He had wanted to blow it out, but he was afraid of the dark.

He wanted a lot of things, but he doubted they would allow them. He wasn't _crazy_, or _sane_ for that matter.

He was _realistic_. He was _honest_.

More than he could say about _them_.

But they were _sane_, more than he could say for _himself_. He wasn't sane, or _completely_ crazy.

Or _were_ they? Was _he_ the sane one, or _they_? Or was it all merely differences in opinion?

Harry turned once again. He couldn't sleep. Rolling back onto his back, he stared into the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he stood and sat criss-crossed on his bed. Tuning into the tendrils of his awareness, he felt his senses heighten. Then the candle blew out.

Eyes snapping open, darkness took over his room on the moonless night. Even the golden stars couldn't illuminate the room. Throwing back his head, he let out a fearful scream.

He immediately heard footsteps run to his door and the door flew open. In the doorway was his "therapist". She looked at him before saying, "What's wrong, Harry?"

Calming now that the open door was allowing in a soft glow, Harry replied, "The candle went out."

She frowned before saying, "What is the problem with that?" then, before he could answer, her eyes widened and she stated, "You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?"

Stiffly, he nodded and pointed to the candle, giving off powerful puppy dog eyes. She then turned to the candle and trained her wand onto it. A blue flame soon took over the white candle.

"Better?" she asked, in her motherly voice, a voice he knew she used only with _him_. Eyes wide, he nodded. She smiled and said a quiet "Goodnight" before leaving, closing the door behind her.

Even with the candle back on, he couldn't catch a winks sleep.

* * *

shampoo147: You like?

Ayame: Yeah, please review!

Shampoo147: Hey that's my line! glares at Ayame And for you all who are waiting for "The fights of reality", it is still under construction!


	2. Chapter 2

Shampoo147: Yay! I have 2 reviewers!

Ayame: that's not very much.

Shampoo147: Shut up! At least I have two people who love me!

Mittens: -Yawn- Why don't you just be quiet, I'm trying to sleep!

Shamopoo147: -sniffle-

Ayame: -whacks Mittens over the head- Stupid, now you made her cry!

Shampoo147: I-I-I duh-don't own any-anything. –Runs out of the room crying.

* * *

Chapter 2

"_I'm not to sure."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I can't answer that, I'm not sure if I'm sane or crazy."_

"_Well, how can you not know?"_

"_A person who's born blind don't know they're blind until someone tells them. Only those who have had the sense of sight understand what they don't have."_

"_I'm not getting it."_

"_Of course not. You see, my mental state hasn't changed my whole life, that I can remember anyway, so I wouldn't know if I were sane or not. That, _plus_, it's my mental state. I won't be crazy, even if I was, in my mind, so I wouldn't be aware of being crazy."_

"_Insane is the appropriate word, Mr.Potter."_

"_Ah, then I'm _insane_."_

"_How can you be insane, but not crazy?"_

"_Well, I'm not sane, I know that, but I'm not crazy either."_

"_I don't understand."_

"_And, you won't _ever_, not until you understand how to accept things you weren't taught in training. When you do that, then call me, or set up another session as I don't have a phone."_

"_Well, then we shall discuss other matters."_

"_Up to _you_."_

"_Mr.Potter, you have once mentioned _pleasure_, why?"_

"_Everyone finds pleasure, it was a term you could connect in even the youngest infancy."_

"_Yet, you seem more . . . _attentive_ to pleasure than to power. A death-eater always pays for _power_."_

"_I'm not a death-eater, and that's _stereotism_ Lady."_

"_I am _Luna_, not Lady."_

"_Loopy Loony Luna."_

"_I am Luna _Mortesmore_, not Luna Lovegod."_

"_Ah, but a boy can hope, eh?"_

"_Back to my question."_

"_What? Oh yeah. I find pleasure deeply intoned with _desire_."_

"_And what is so great about desire?"_

"_Desire is everything. We live for our desire. Power is a mere _type_ of desire. We may lose, gain, or ditch power, but _desire_, it's always there. It's what keeps us going we live to achieve our desire. Power fades, though leaves its marks, but _desire_, it's always there."_

"_I see."_

"No_, you don't."_

At this point, Luna Mortesmore switched off the tape. She was doing no better than James Potter was. She had never seen anything like Harry Potter. He wasn't anything they had prepared for in training. Shifting her weight, she looked through the tapes once more.

"Where's the tape for session #3?" She asked when she couldn't find it.

"I think James has it, Luna." Her secretary, Jenny, replied, flipping open the files of the tape. Then she nodded; showing that James did have it. Luna smiled thinly, James was doing all that he could, but even with the father's help, they weren't getting very far in cracking the code that Harry Potter now spoke in.

She put every bit of energy that she could into her one patient. She was the best in her field, but now she believed that she had met a mind beyond her abilities.

She kept trying to see Harry as a Death-Eater, but she just saw a small boy, looking at her with wide eyes, pointing at the candle. Another little boy that was afraid of the dark, of the monsters they believed lurked there.

With a sigh she called it a night and prepared to sleep.

Harry had finally found a comfortable position in his room. He now just placed a few blankets on the floor beneath his bed. It was cramped and dim. Like his cupboard, but without the darkness to remind him of his uncle's girth, or the people of the shadows.

"_I am the 'who' in the call 'who's there'_

_I am the wind blowing through your hair_

_I am the shadow in the moonlit night_

_Filling your dreams to the brim with fright"_

He had also found that if he insisted, his "therapist" would play chess with him, and bring him some more books. Now if only he could get her to bring him books that he liked.

"_In this town we call home_

_Everyone hail to the pumpkin song"_

He began to wonder if she'd listen to him sing.

Ah, well, all of the songs he knows would probably just confuse her. Turning slightly, he saw that the candle was getting a bit low.

Harry stood and used the flame already in the candle to light another.

Harry then burrowed himself under his bed and slept, after making sure that the shadows didn't reach him. When they had taken him to see "his" room, he had found similar candles there and the room quite bare. He knew then that the other Harry had known of the shadow-people as well, and feared as he did.

"_Will you please make way for a very special guy_

_Our man Jack is king of the pumpkin patch_

_Everyone hail to the pumpkin king_

_This is Holloween _

_This is Holloween_

_Holloween Holloween_

_Holloween Holloween_

_In this town, we call home_

_Everyone hail to the Pumpkin song"

* * *

_

Shampoo147: I hope you like this!

Ayame/Mittens: EEEEEEEEE! Quit doing that!

Shampoo147: -ignores them- I hope you like it! Listen I'll just be throwing in random songs here and there.

Ayame: -mutters under breath- damn PMS.


	3. Chapter 3

Shampoo147: Thank you, thank you!

Ayame: . . . You're not on stage anymore, we don't own anything here.

Shampoo147: I don't care! I'll keep this up until I faint!

* * *

Chapter 3

"_Is Voldemort still at large? Why do you flinch?"_

"_Yes, You-Know-Who is still at large. He is currently quiet, but that is to be expected."_

"_You still believe me to be his right-hand man, huh?"_

"_I said no such thing."_

"_You implied it."_

"_You're interrogating me now."_

"_Yes, and you avoided my second question."_

"_You-Know-Who's name is still feared despite what has happened in your world."_

" _. . . You're still afraid. In my world, people managed to get over their fear and fought along side me."_

" _. . . "_

"_I know what you're thinking. 'And look where it got you, Mr.Potter. In a mental ward of St.Mungos.' right?"_

"_Mr.Potter, I have thought no such thing. I was merely contemplating how highly you think of your world's people, and so lowly of ours."_

"_I don't think lowly of you."_

"_You hold no one in this world in respect."_

"_Yes, I happen to hold some people from this world in the highest esteem."_

"_Such as?"_

"_Voldemort."_

"_He-who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"_

"_Yes. In my world, he was crazy alright, and in such a mood for vengeance that it interfered his judgement and he was erratic and unorganized."_

"_And in this world?"_

"_He is aware and organized. He plans out his raids and prepares for surprises."_

"_And that is to admire?"_

"_In my mind, yes."_

" _. . . Who else might there be?"_

"_Then there's my AUC, Alternate Universe Counterpart."_

"_You admire yourself?"_

"_Yes. He managed to find a way to hide his abilities and loyalties for a period of 14 years and under the most powerfully light families with Dumbledore himself constantly coming over to check on the Boy-Who-Lived."_

"_I have never thought of it that way."_

"_No, you didn't."_

Luna pressed down the 'Stop' button and turned to James. She sighed and said, "That is our most recent recording."

James nodded and said, "It's hopeless, I can't even figure my own son out. None of us can!"

Luna sighed; she was in the same belief.

* * *

Harry looked up into the ceiling, they had put him further in mental stability "homes", ever since his famous, in his world, temper got the better of him and attacked the bastard who was trying to rape him, not that they believed him on _that_ charge. 

He rolled to the side, wishing he could leave, to fly. Flying always gave him a sense of freedom, something he had never truly tasted.

He sighed; at least he got to sing.

And to prove this to himself, he opened his mouth and allowed the whisper of song to escape:

"_I could be mean, I could be angry  
__You know I could be just like you_

_I could be fake, I could be stupid  
__You know I could be just like you_

_You thought you were standing beside me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_I could be cold, I could be ruthless  
__You know I could be just like you_

_I could be wekl, I could be senseless  
__You know I could be just like you_

_You thought you were standing beside me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_All I own, cause I can't take living with you  
__I'm alone, so I won't turn out like you want me to _

_You thought you were standing beside me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me  
__You were only in my way  
__You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_I could be mean, I could be angry  
__You know I could be just like you"_

As Harry's voice trailed off, the last words kept echoing off the walls, repeating off into nothing.

'_Just like you' . . . 'just like you' _

Harry sighed, the bittersweet irony in that song was not lost to him.

He wanted out, he knew that, and he was sure that his therapist and family knew that better than he did. He gritted his teeth once more; he missed his freedom. Freedom he never tasted.

The shadows were mocking him, they kept coming closer, no matter how much he tried to light his room. Unless there was another person there of pure magic, they taunted him, mocking him, letting him know that they were in control.

At that moment, all of his candles blew out.

Before you could even blink, Harry let out a fearful scream that woke even those on the first floor.

Harry threw himself across the room and blindly groped at the door, heaving great gasps of fear and wincing as he felt the cold, the pain of the cold steel slicing his skin, over and over, deeper and deeper.

* * *

Shampoo147: Dun dun dun! And so the plot starts! 

Ayame: Please review!

"Just Like You" is by Three Days Grace.


	4. Chapter 4

Shampoo147: Sorry I haven't been updating for a long-ass time, but I need to babysit my pissant step-brothers. I really don't like them, but I suppose their mother is to blame for their attitudes.

Ayame: You're being rather harsh on them, they're only kids.

Shampoo147: One's nine and the other's 12! And they both still act like they're three! I can put up with toddlers! They're cute and I can't stay mad at them!

Ayame: Fine, you're obviously not going to do it, so I will. We own nothing.

Shampoo147: In case I don't update before then, Merry Christmas, my lovely readers!

* * *

Darkness

James sighed as he and Luna started to clean up their mess on her desk when they heard a high and shockingly loud scream. Immediately recognizing it as Harry, Luna dumped everything as she ran through the confusing and twisting hallways in the fifth floor. James ran after her with seeker speed.

She tossed a spell towards Harry's door with a muttered word, the password, James knew.

The second the door flew open, Harry was a blur as he threw himself at Luna and sobbed uncontrollably. James, with auror observation, immediately noticed the blood seeping through Harry's clothes and dripping to the floor, from multiple slashes in his leg, all _over_ his legs.

Gritting his teeth, James threw his wand out in front of him and with a muttered '_Lumos'_ he entered Harry's room for evidence of any intruders, making sure to keep aware, judging from Harry's leg, these intruders were hostile.

Luna was comforting Harry like he was a young child who had gotten a nightmare from a scary movie they weren't supposed to watch, but did anyway. She looked up when James came back and put his wand away. He shook his head said, "There's no one in there, and there hasn't been anyone in there, but Harry here." At the end, he gestured to Harry.

James looked to Luna, but before he could form a question, she shook her head and whispered, "Did you hear that, Harry? There's nothing to be afraid of in there," in a soothing voice.

Harry, however, shook his head fiercely, and said in that hiccuping voice of someone who's still crying, "_NO_, they're in there. They're _always_ there. They never go, the _CAN'T_ go. They live in the darkness, the _shadows_. They're the _shadows_! They're after me . . ." at this point Harry began to whimper, "after me, _always_ me" over and over again like a mantra. James shot Luna a confused look, but she looked just as puzzled as he was.

"Shh, Harry. It's okay, I'll cast a _lumos_ charm on the candles, and they won't go out then. Is that okay?" Luna cooed. Harry shakily nodded his head. So she took the still shaking boy into the room and cast the spell.

"Are you alright?" She asked as she began to close the door, but Harry was staring at the candle with a vacant look in his eyes. So she closed the door.

James and Luna walked back to her office, both subdued.

When James closed her door and sat down, the first thing to come out of his mouth was, "Does that happen often?"

Luna shook her head and replied, "No, but there was an incident last week, his candle went out and he screamed. I came back, and lit his candle for him. It was from that that I concluded my report of his fear of the dark." James nodded sullenly.

"But, where did his slashes come from?" he asked, not meaning to challenge her, but needing to know about any lapses in the security.

"Magic reacts to a person's emotions, Mr. Potter. Harry seems to believe that there are things in the dark that want him. Naturally, when the candle went out, he went into high stress, believing that someone would want to kill him. It is conclusive that his magic reacted accordingly." Luna said with a sigh.

James' eyes widened, "Are you saying that, his, _magic_, _hurt_ him? But magic is supposed to _protect_ its host!"

Luna sighed, "Magic is like a tool, in some ways, it reacts to the host's wishes, or in this case, fear. Like when you think that something is insupportable, your eyes begin to project images to support your theory, or feeling." At this James frowned, but allowed her to go on. "Magic has no conscious, so how can we expect it to protect when it doesn't even think? Magic has no reactions, or, of course, emotions. No matter what danger a person is in, the magic doesn't react, it's a person's own beliefs and understandings that forces the magic out and "protect" them. Magic is a tool, triggered by emotion and subconscious use."

James frowned and asked, "And in his cell?"

Luna frowned, "In his cell, the light went out, and he believes that something will get him if that happens. But the dark, as adults well know, is quite safe, but apparently this belief has been budded into his subconscious. And so, when there was no danger, his mind projected his belief and his magic reacted, slashing deeply into his legs. When I opened the door, and light came in, his subconscious automatically saw safety and pushed his magic dormant once more."

"So you're saying that Harry's fear of the dark is so intense that when the light went out, his subconscious deemed the dark unsafe and 'thought up' the danger and his magic just _reflected_ that?" James asked, stunned that a fear could be taken so far as to cause magic to physically harm you.

Luna nodded and said, "That may be the root of many things wrong with his conscious thoughts."

"So what are you saying we have to do?"

"I think that we have to force him to confront his fear, the darkness, with restraints to keep himself from harming himself, and subdue his magic with M.R. 50."

James eyes went wide in shock, "_M.R. 5O_? But, that's only used on criminals in Azkaban!"

"It may be only used on criminals, Mr. Potter, but that's only because there's not much point in subduing a civilian's magic." Luna was serious about this. "This has to be done. When we do this, his magic will react to harm him, and we need to show him that there is nothing to fear about the dark."

"Shadows."

"What?"

"Harry didn't mean darkness, he said _shadows_."

"I don't see why you're bringing this up now."

"I don't know, it just seemed important." James looked up and Luna saw the fatigue in them.

"Get some sleep Mr. Potter, you look like you need it." James smiled wanly at that and said, "Not as much as you do. You're the one actually looking after him."

Luna smiled and replied, "Well, go on. I just need to sort out some of my files before I go home as well. Your son's sessions have gotten so tiring that I need more sleep than a baby!" James smiled at her try at a joke and left.

Luna sighed and blew out her candle before leaving herself.

James couldn't sleep.

Luna couldn't sleep.

Harry couldn't sleep.

* * *

Shampoo: Poor Harry, when will people finally begin to believe him?

Ayame: Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Shampoo147: Listen, I'll be tired, but I won't let other people work on some of my stories, this is one, the other is The Forgotten Child, and requirements on Blue Glass and A New World.

Ayame: Please, bear with us.

* * *

_So cold, so cold._

_Harry gazed out of the Astronomy Tower, staring at the stars. Why was he so cold?_

_He looked down, out of the window, wondering how people would react if he jumped._

_Cold, why did they make him so cold?_

"_Harry."_

_Soft, such a soft voice, tired but understanding._

"_Harry, come over here."_

_Should he? Why should he? He was rather comfortable as it was._

"_Harry . . . please, I have cake."_

_Cake, damn you, you wench._

"_Come on, Harry. It has lots of whipped cream."_

_Bribing wench._

_Harry turned from the window and looked at the girl behind him. Long black hair, deep blue eyes, she was the only one left . . . _

_And she was holding a plate of fluffy cake._

_He hated her._

_Nevertheless, he got down from the sill (he couldn't recall even getting up there) and approached her. She was beautiful, so perfect . . . he hated her._

_She smiled at him and rested by the wall as he ate the cake. "That's Sirius, the dog star," she said suddenly, pointing at a bright star out the window. _

_Harry followed her finger and stared, not saying a word._

_

* * *

_Chapter 5

"_Now, Harry, what's so dangerous about the dark?"_

" _. . . It's not the dark that's dangerous, it's the shadows in the dark."_

"_I see, but what's so dangerous about the shadows?"_

"_You wouldn't understand . . . but I'll tell you anyway."_

" _. . . "_

"_It's not the shadows themselves that are dangerous, it's really the Shadow-People."_

"_The Shadow-People?"_

"_I think they have a proper name, but I don't know it. They live in the shadows, so I call them the Shadow-People."_

"_I see, what's so dangerous about the Shadow-People?"_

"_They're not usually dangerous, they're actually pretty careful and loving creatures, but . . . due to an . . . incident a few years back, they constantly see me as the enemy and try to kill me."_

"_Could you tell me about this incident?"_

"_Due to the fact that, at the time, a lot of people were looking to me to defeat Voldemort, I was researching a lot of dark artifacts to try and find a way to kill him. I found an odd looking book, it was pretty plain looking, at the first look. It was red and leather-bound. But, of course, it wasn't nearly as plain and ordinary, as it first seemed. The first challenge was actually opening the damned thing. Everything Hermione, Ron, and I tried failed. It was only a stroke of luck on my part that we opened it."_

"_What was this luck?"_

"_Blood. I worked hard and barely slept, so, when I was handling a knife, some idea of Ron's, I cut myself, deep. The blood really began to flow, but all of it dribbled onto the book. Then, I don't know, it just opened. There was no sound, no big light, it just stopped resisting my attempts to open it. So, I tried to read it."_

"_You are aware that reading an unknown artifact that takes blood to open it by yourself is a very silly move, right?"_

"_I never said I was smart. So I opened it, but, when I touched the pages, it . . . burned me. Like I was putting my hands on really solid fire instead of old book pages. I tried to let go, but it wouldn't let me . . . "_

"_And then what happened?"_

"_I don't know. I passed out. When I woke up, there were a bunch of Death Eaters around. Apparently I had really been screaming and that tipped the D.E.'s where we were. I don't know where we were, but I figured it some kind of Death Eater hideout, seeing as it wasn't the hideout we were last in. I was in a dark cell all by myself . . . "_

" _. . . And?"_

"_Please, give me another night."_

"_Sure thing . . . "_

Luna looked to James, "We seem to be getting to the center of his hallucination, if we can understand where his fear came from, maybe we won't have to confine him and bind his magic."

James nodded, "That's good, I don't want to do that. Not to my own son. No matter what he's done, he's still my son."

Luna looked at James and said, "You should head home and put Lily's fears to rest."

James gave a tired smiled that couldn't convince a child and said, "Yeah, I'll go back."

Luna nodded and looked at the tapes and recordings, maybe they would finally crack this case.

After two years of endless mystery and silence, was he finally going to let them in?

* * *

Shampoo 147: Please, review, don't review, just don't give up on us.


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